Reset
by D'MoNiQ
Summary: HPLOTR SLASH - When Harry Potter breathed out his last breath at the end of the final battle with Lord Voldemort, Hariel took his first breath and opened unseeing emerald eyes to greet the Middle Earth. Harry/Glorfindel CHAPTER 10: First Appearance
1. 0 First Awakening

**Prologue - First Awakening**

When Harry Potter closed his eyes for the last time, he hoped that he would no longer have to open them again. He had seen the end of an old rotting world that no longer needed him.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore once said that Death is just another adventure.

And when the end came, Harry truly did not expect... this.

Sure, he was the Master of the Deathly Hallows but he certainly did not expect Death to greet him like he was above it.

He knew not how Death looked like, nor how it felt like but the moment that he laid eyes on the figure before him, he knew it was Death itself.

For some reason unknown even to himself, Harry found himself unafraid and almost unconcerned. That thought alarmed him a little. Though, nothing was more eerie that the appearance that Death had taken.

Hair as dark as the moonless night, with a pale countenance resulting from lack of sun and eyes so green that it could only belong to one person. (After all, how many times had he heard people telling him that his eyes resemble the most brilliant of emeralds?)

Harry was staring at a mirror reflection of himself.

What do you want? Harry found himself asking within his mind. He didn't bother saying it out loud. Death should not be hindered by all things physical.

Indeed, for though no words passed between them, understanding dawned on him. As if a little voice has switched on a light in his head.

This was his destiny.

His life.

His task.

His choice.

His chance.

Harry knew that he could have declined this mission but he could not dismiss the feeling of regret. He was so young when he died. The opportunity to live his life lost because of a wizard driven mad at the thought of possessing immortality.

Yet now, immortality was being offered to him. And he did not want it. He only wanted a chance to find something he did not have in his past life.

Death was offering him this.

But the price he had to pay... an eternity... possibly an eternity of loneliness.

Was it worth it?

* * *

When Harry finally opened his eyes again, he witnessed the beginning of a new world. Where immortal beings set foot upon the soils of Arda, where life is far, far different from the one that he had been born into but had been rejected from.

This was a different world.

And this would be his new home.

* * *

When Harry Potter breathed out his last breath at the end of the final battle with Lord Voldemort, Hariel took his first breath and opened unseeing emerald eyes to greet the newly formed Middle Earth.

**End of Prologue**

* * *

I completely forgot my disclaimer, so here it is:

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. If it was, did you think that I'll be writing fanfiction?**

Yes, I decided to change the prologue after all. If all goes well, the first chapter will be out by Sunday, latest by Monday.


	2. 1 First Arrival

_"In Rivendell there live still some of his chief foes: the Elven-wise, lords of the Eldar from beyond the furthest seas. They do not fear the Ringwraiths, for those who have dwelt in the Blessed Realm live at once in both worlds, and against both the Seen and the Unseen they have great power."_ - Gandalf, Tolkien, J. R. R. (1954), The Fellowship of the Ring, The Lord of the Rings, Boston: Houghton Mifflin (published 1987), "Many Meetings".

**1. First Arrival**

Living amongst immortals in the Undying Lands was pleasant as Harry found out not long after joining their ranks as a Maia. He served under the Vala Namo, the Speaker of Doom and lived in the Hall of Mandos as a guide to the deceased. Because of this, he was among the rare few that could freely travel between Middle Earth and Valinor.

All in all, his responsibilities in the Undying Lands were rare as there were hardly any inhabitants in Middle Earth. Then, slowly as years passed, the elves arrived to Middle Earth. The Valar begin to summon the light beings to Valinor and Harry's tasks grew, mainly to guide elven ships to the Undying Lands and the souls of departed elves to the House of the Dead where they awaited the summons of Ilúvatar at the time of World's End.

His tasks kept him busy for centuries but the feeling of discontent remained as he continued his search for that missing something that had followed him to this life. Though he retained most of his memories from his previous life, strangely enough, Harry could not remember being like he once was.

For one, his appearance was no longer scruffy and boyish. There was something about being a spirit that made it easy being graceful and orderly. His hair, though he did little to care for it, had grown past his shoulders in shiny waves. The pale skin that made him look anaemic before now gave him an unearthly glow.

How he would know all this when he was blind?

Among all the changes, the most alarming and subtle transformation in his appearance was his eyes. Though still the familiar emerald green, his eyes no longer possessed pupils. That did not mean that he was completely blind. He could see the aura that surrounded each person, mortal or immortal, and be able to identify each one from a crowd if there was ever a need. He needed this ability for his duty as Death. And despite the fact that he could no longer see physical things, he could always view them through another's eyes. Not many knew that his mediocre ability in occlumency and legilimency was brought over from his past life and further amplified so that he could easily access people's thoughts should they dare to look into his eerie pupil-less eyes. He knew that it unnerved most of his companions, so he kept his eyes closed most of the time, unwittingly giving himself a serene espression that worked well in calming his passengers.

Though, once upon a time, he would not care about calming the lost souls that he guided.

However, once upon a time, he could see through clear emerald eyes but was blind to all things beyond the physical.

And once upon a time, he would have grown impatient waiting for that unknown missing piece his life lacked. He would have grown angry at fate for giving him an eternal life filled with discontent.

Once upon a time, he was Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived to sacrifice his life for his friends and family.

But now, he was Hariel, as they called him in Middle Earth. Or _Celahir_, as the Valar and other Maiar named him for his fey appearance. Or even Death. It no longer mattered to him what he was called.

He knew he was no longer Harry Potter but still, he continued to search for the missing piece that continued to elude him.

----------------------------

It wasn't until one occassion, where he was visiting the Eldest that he had an inkling of what he might be searching for.

----------------------------

The stout being that roamed within his forest, cheerfully singing a tune, was visited by a rare guest one fine morning. He appeared behind the jolly man with nary a sound but the Master of the Old Forest barely even twitched when he caught sight of the black hooded figure.

"Hello, Tom," the keeper of the Dead said, his voice barely a whisper.

Tom Bombadil, or known as _Iarwain Ben-adar_ to the Elves, laughed gaily at the sight of the omnious figure. Death was not exactly well-received by many.

"Harry, my old friend! Welcome!," the boisterous brown-haired spirit opened his arms to the slight creature.

Apparently, Tom Bombadil was different in every way possible.

And that was why Hariel love the jolly immortal. Freaks stay together, he believed he once heard. A long long time ago, in another lifetime.

But that aside, Tom Bombadil and his wife, Goldberry, have always been able to lift his spirits. Recently, he had been feeling more and more depressed. Enough for Lady Vaire, who was perpetually busy with her weaving, to actually stop and enquire about him.

He had immediately taken his leave of the Hall to roam about Middle Earth.

Here, in this lifetime, he had the freedom to go where ever he wanted, whenever he wanted and he had his privacy which he valued. The Valar did not force him to do anything he did not like as long as he performed his duties. And he understood the necessity to maintain the balance between life and death, so he did not complain about his mission nor laze about. But it had been years from the time he had been given this purpose by the Valar. Too many years. Always alone, even if he was also the keeper to the Hall of Awaiting, constantly surrounded by immortal souls.

"Perhaps a mate will do fine by you, young Hariel," Tom Bombadil said when he explained the reason for his temporary leave from the Hall of Mandos. Hariel was very introverted compared to his previous life, but Tom had the ability to extract any information he wanted. Aside from being very persuasive, the jolly man was also very easy to talk to.

Harry paused, drinking-bowl in mid motion. He pondered what his elder uttered and found a hint of impishness in it. However, there was also an unhealthy dose of seriousness in those words that told the age-old being that his friend did undeniably meant what he said.

"Perhaps," he replied delicately, settling his bowl down. Then, he deliberately changed the subject by asking the distractable Eldest a particularly difficult riddle that Maia Olórin once asked him.

However, despite his best effort, those words stayed with Harry even as he wandered aimlessly out of the old forest. And it continued to echo within his mind for years, as he carried on existing, often in despair and always alone.

Would he ever find peace, he would wonder. Then memory of those words would return, unbidden and unwelcomed.

'A mate'

He would push those thoughts away.

And the loneliness would remain.

-----------------------------

He was the first arrival to stare so blatantly at him when Hariel came to fetch him, to answer the summons of the Valar.

"The Hall of Mandos awaits you," the dark-haired being said. He wondered if he should tell the elf that he could sense his stare even if he was noticeably blind. It was rude to stare after all, though in all honesty, Harry could not bring himself to even be annoyed.

This elf was a hero in his eyes. Dying to save the people that he cared about.

He could relate to him.

Harry also knew that the merciful Valar would allow the elf's re-embodiment, so he would no doubt see the golden elf around the Undying Lands soon.

He held out his hand to the fallen elf.

"Come with me, Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin."

**End of Chapter 1**

* * *

Celahir means 'fey' I believe.

Yes. I've written this 3 times but I've stated in the first version that this plot was a prototype. I could have easily given up and thrown this down the dumps.

But the story seems to have taken a life of its own and the plot bunny has manage to grow out of size (and is currently sitting in my head, dominating all the space in it). TT____TT This is all I can think about now. Jeezz...

Seriously, I dunno what happened but this whole chapter wrote itself.

About the pairing, it quite obvious now that the first story has unfolded like this. Though in actuality Legolas won the poll I previously put up in my profile (Glorfindel came in second), the story morphed out so differently that I was in the opinion that the only elf that could come close to Harry would be Glorfindel. The other choice would be Olórin aka Gandalf but that would just be...ewww... just ewww.

Sorry, Legolas/Harry fans.

My roommate is also of the opinion that Legolas/Harry pairing is just wrong as they're both bottoms. ^___^ But that's her sentiment.

Just to make this clear, this will be a series of snapshots on Harry's encounter with different people as well as other's p.o.v. when they meet Harry/Hariel/Celahir. The timeline will vary a little. If there's any discrepancy, please tell me and I will either correct or explain it. Mostly I'll remain with characters from the Lord of the Ring, just to remain safe.

The next update will come after three months. Until then.


	3. 2 First Friend

**2. First Friend**

"You are Death."

Those were the very first words that the Maia Olórin uttered to him.

Hariel or Celahir, as the occupants of the Undying Lands named him, stared at him with unblinking evergreen eyes that saw nothing physical. The other Maia stared back at him, clearly unwilling to be cowed by his eerily glowing eyes. The dark-haired Maia could not find anything in the other's eyes (or thoughts) that suggested that the older Maia was untrustworthy. Finally, at a stalemate, Harry opened his mouth.

"Yes," Harry replied. "I am. I am the Master of Death."

---------------------

When Olórin first heard of the being known as the Master of Death, he set out to find the elusive being renowned for his beauty and for his reclusiveness .

"I am the one who ferries immortals who have passed on," the diminutive Maia, who barely even reached his shoulders, told him. The wise Maia had expected many things when he heard from Vala Nienna of the little Death, but he had never expected this waif-like spirit with unseeing emerald eyes that could captivate even the most heartless.

Out of curiousity, Olórin decided to stay with him, just for a little while longer.

At first, the fey being was clearly annoyed by his attention. Sometimes, he would disappear from Valinor just to avoid the wise Maia. During one of those times, Olórin discovered from the Lady Weaver that the slight creature liked being left alone.

But surely, no one would spurn companionship for all eternity. Even Death.

So, Olórin continued to seek Celahir from time to time, till the fey being accepted him as his first friend. And in turn, he too became dear to Olórin, as a younger sibling could ever be.

One day, the child-like Maia who was called Master of Death, turned to him and tugged on the sleeve of his robes.

"Will you tell me about the world, Master Olórin," he asked.

The elder of the two blinked.

"What do you want to know, Harry?" the Maia asked. What an odd question to ask, Olórin thought to himself. Celahir, or Harry as he had taken to calling him, could travel both worlds effortlessly. Surely, he would know more of the world than him?

"The world. The people. What they are like," at this, the waif-like being looked up, piercing his companion with large unseeing emerald eyes that was both wise and naïve at the same time.

For that instant, Olórin felt nothing but pain and sadness for this child-like immortal who had never known life, only death.

--------------------------

For the first time in this lifetime, Hariel had a companion who was not afraid or in awe of him.

Granted, he had forest companions who didn't mind him because they understood that he was part of nature itself, but they weren't… well, able to converse. And those who could, like the elves he often met, were seldom able to accompany him for long before they reached the Hall of Mandos. And even then, they weren't his companion by choice.

And those in the Undying Lands seldom sought for him, for most of them had responsibilities that they had to uphold themselves. Even if they did enquire about Harry, the blind fey simply did not bother with them, being too busy with his duty and his depression.

Olórin did not care for his aloofness, often accompanying him whether Harry desired his companionship or not. The wise Maia could always easily distract him from his annoyance at being deprived of his privacy by telling him anecdotes that he had read or teaching him things he did not have the opportunity to learn in this lifetime nor the last.

Then, the wise and irritating Maia Olórin decided to interfere with his bachelor status. But that was another story on its own.

In more ways than one, Olórin filled the gaping discontent that he retained ever since he took his first breath in this Arda.

Hariel wondered sometimes whether Ilúvatar and the Valar had intended things to happen the way that it did. But he could only guess.

-----------------------------

Years later, during the 3rd Age of the Sun, five new arrivals set foot upon Middle Earth.

Olórin, now known as Gandalf the Grey, sought out his fey friend almost immediately when he arrived. The green-eyed being had been more active ever since Morgoth wreaked havoc in Middle Earth and then, with the emergence of Sauron. During these few years, Hariel had been constantly roaming the lands at Vala Namo's orders.

Gandalf wondered though, with an impish smile, if duty was really what drove him to be there constantly.

When he finally found Celahir, or Hariel here in Middle Earth, Death greeted him with open arms and a rare welcoming smile.

----------------------

For years, Gandalf stayed with him as he continued to wander about, often saying that they were going the same way, so they might as well travel together. Usually, Harry would stay in the forest, for his very presence brought fear to mortals. If they should stumble upon any towns, he would be hidden in the background while Gandalf meandered about looking for information.

A few years after Gandalf appeared, the old wizard announced that perhaps it is time for them to go their separate ways.

"Perhaps," Harry replied, for there was no other words that he could think of. Nor were there any other words that could convey his reluctance in losing the only friend he had.

"I will see you again soon, Harry," the older being said and Harry nodded before his first friend rode away. With death hovering behind him.

* * *

End of Chapter 2

Nope, no Glorfindel in this chapter. No action. Heh. Yeah yeah, I'm mean that way. This chapter is to put light into Gandalf's and Harry's brother-sibling relationship. The next chapter might or might not be about Glorfindel & Harry or it could be when Elrond first meet Harry. Hmm... Choices choices. Well, we'll see how it goes.

Yes, I'm pure evil. I know. Tell me something I don't know.

P.S. I know this chapter is quite short but the next one will be far longer. I thought I'll update this before I have to return to that sad little island without any internet where I'm currently working in. TT_______TT Please wait till I return in June for the next update.

For now, please review. Thanks.


	4. 3 First Dream

**3. First Dream**

The dream first came as a blurry image.

In it, a figure all in black sat amidst lush foliage darkened with looming shadows.

_Come closer_, it would beckon but not a single word was uttered.

Yet, try as he might, Elrond could not get any closer. And when he awoke, he would not remember a single thing of what he saw. The only thing remaining would be a niggling feeling that stayed with him throughout the day.

Then night would come and with it, the same dream.

Always the same.

He couldn't see the features of the being that beckoned him.

_Closer_, it continued to echo within his mind.

As the dreams begin to gain clarity, Elrond was finally able to glimpse the being that summoned his arrival nightly.

At first, Elrond thought the creature was a human child but even through the haziness, he could see an unearthly glow about this small being.

It would take nearly another week before he would fully capture the details of this fey creature's appearance.

The ethereal being had hair as dark as the night of the new moon, long and unbound, tumbling down over small shoulders to the waist. Coupled with the pure black silk robes that the androgynous creature wore, the darkness that surrounded the pale features only seemed to highlight the fair face that shone with the light of Aman. The face was beautiful but the eyes upon it would always take Elrond's breath away.

But always, always, in the beginning of the dream, those beautiful orbs would be closed, long dark lashes fluttering against high unblemished cheeks.

_'Why did you summon me?'_ Elrond would asked.

Eyes so green that they rivaled only the most lush of forests would snap open.

And the dream would then end.

It wouldn't be another three more days before the child-like being would say anything to him.

For those three days, he remembered nothing but glowing green eyes. He consulted his mentor and lord, High King Gil-Galad about the dreams and they came to the conclusion that maybe it was a foretelling of a future arrival that may turn the tide for their war against Sauron. But until they knew what the wraith-like creature wanted, they could not decipher the meaning of the visions, if indeed those dreams really were visions.

Something was different that night, when he finally spoke. Elrond could feel it, even in his dreams, as he wandered through the shadowy forest towards the creature that beckoned him night by night.

This time, when he arrived at the clearing where they always met, the fey child was staring at him with those lustrous emerald eyes. Then those pink lips opened.

_'I am the Master of Death.'_

-------------------------------

Elrond awoke.

Startled by the intensity of his dream, the dark-haired elf jolted from his bed, reaching out for the sword he kept by his bedside. When his fingers touched the hilt of his sword, he stopped, finally snapping out of the shock that the dream had wrought. He thought through his dream hard as he tried to gather his wits about him.

The Master of Death?

Why would Death show itself to him?

Was he going to die in the war with Sauron?

Too shaken by the knowledge wrought from his dream, he did not tell his monarch what he had dreamt. They did not need such an omnious sign brought to light. It would only serve to bring down the men's spirit.

But the intensity of those brilliant green eyes that held all the knowledge and sadness of the world remained in his mind, haunting him.

------------------------------

Elrond dreamt no more of the petite spirit until weeks later, when in the midst of the battle against Sauron, he caught sight of the black-clad Maia.

At first, Elrond could not believe what he was seeing.

The only thing that registered in his mind was that the dream wasn't a dream after all.

High above the battle site, a small dark figure sat, legs dangling from the cliff like a little child. The expression on that unforgettable face however, was not child-like. Tears of despair trailed down from those emerald eyes as the Master of Death watched both mortals and immortals killing and dying.

Elrond was frozen in shock, till a shout broke his reverie.

"ELROND! LOOK OUT!"

----------------------

Moments after his close shave with death, Elrond braced himself to look up to find the black-clad figure gone.

-----------------------

That night, after the war was won and loved ones were lost, he had a dream.

The ancient forest that was previously filled with shadows and danger now glittered with light and life. Assorted creatures could be seen grazing, birds were serenading from treetops as butterflies of rainbow colours fluttered merrily from one cluster of flowers to another.

_'Why do you seek me?'_ a quiet voice inquired.

Elrond turned to see the child who claimed to be the Master of Death. He sat within the clearing as always, in the same place. But this time, as opposed to shadows, forest companions surrounded the petite Maia, nuzzling the fey being as if trying to comfort the spirit with their affections.

Elrond scanned the fair face which was now expressionless, completely devoid of the pain and grief that it held previously. The brilliant green eyes that captivated the elf was now closed, which was both a disappointment and a relief to Elrond. Cautiously, the dark-haired elf asked:_ 'What do you mean?'_

_'At every junction of your life, you come calling upon me,'_ the fair Maia answered, so soft he was almost whispering.

_'I...I do not understand…'_ Elrond frowned in confusion.

_'Years ago, you and your brother came to me. Can you remember now?'_ the shorter of the two then opened his bottomless emerald eyes.

Elrond to gazed into Death's pupil-less green eyes and the memories begin to flood into his mind. When he had been given the choice between joining the kin of man or to remain an immortal, he had been approached by a small figure cloaked in black, hooded and concealed. In that dream, Death showed him the things he might see as an immortal elf, both beautiful and ugly, the cruelty of the world and it's ever poignant kindness. He also showed them the peace that they may receive as a mortal, when the time came to rejoin all those who have passed on before them. Now, he wished that he had not made the choice to remain an immortal.

As if knowing his thoughts, the Maia tilted his head in curiousity. Snapping out of his thoughts, Elrond bowed in apology.

_'I do now. I did not know that I have interrupted your peace.'_

_'You did. But it matters not now. You seek something, do you not?'_

_'No, I… ,"_ surprised by Death's candidness, Elrond floundered for just a moment before pausing.

_'Yes, I do,'_ he finally answered, knowing now that it was him who had sought the child-like Maia and not the other way round. It was then that the forests around them melted, into wondrous golden halls that stretched on and on. Elrond watched in awed amazement as all around them, every single tree turned into great shining pillars and their branches morphed into high beams where yards of fine tapestries hung, all the way down to the gleaming floors.

_'Elrond.'_

The dark-haired elf turned at the familiar voice calling out his name. The High King Gil-galad stood, not too far from where he was, smiling wondrously at him as if all burdens had been lifted from his shoulders. Behind him, various other elves stood, rejoicing and laughing. They were elves that had perished that morning in the battle for Middle Earth.

Elrond stepped towards them, wanting to know if something this beautiful was truly a dream but the Master of Death moved in front of him, halting his progress.

_'Wake up, Lord Elrond,'_ the diminutive being said, _'You do not belong here.'_

_'But I need to speak to them-'_

_'In time, you will see them again,'_ the other being said, gently and soothingly. All around them, the halls melted and the blissful elves disappeared as darkness bled across his vision till he saw no more.

_'And when you do, I will be beside you.'_

----------------------

When Elrond awoke, his cheeks were wet with tears.

He wished all he could that he could join those that he had seen at the Hall of Awaiting. He wished that he would no longer have to continue on without them. And most of all, he wished that he could not feel this pain of great loss.

"It is difficult to be left behind, isn't it?"

Elrond jolted up from his reclining position to stare at the Master of Death, who was standing at the foot of his bed.

"Your life, there is more to see and more to learn. It is not time yet for me to guide you to the Blessed Realms," the child-like Maia smiled softly. For a moment, Elrond was breathless, amazed by the simple beauty brought upon the fair face by that little smile.

"You have yet to complete your role as a ring-bearer, Elrond, son of Earendil," the green-eyed Maia continued, "Until then, you will live. And the emptiness within your heart that you feel now will be filled with wisdom and love."

With that said, the diminutive Death was enveloped in darkness and disappeared from his sight.

Elrond would learn, with time, the truth the petite Maia had spoken. He learned to wield the power of Vilya, the Ring of Air, as he gained knowledge and wisdom along the way. Most of all, he gained loved ones that filled his heart with joy everyday of his immortal life. His wife, his sons and his beloved daughter as well as his dear friends.

From the last time he laid eyes on Death, whenever he thought of the Maia, he no longer felt wariness he initially felt whenever he thought of the spirit. Now, Elrond could only think of the other ageless being with something akin to gratefulness for giving him an insight on how wondrous life in Middle Earth could be. He wondered sometimes whether he would meet the ebony-haired Maia again.

For Elrond, centuries would pass before he would ever see those evergreen eyes again.

----------------------

And it wouldn't be until years later, in a moment of chance, that Elrond would find that he was not the only one who knew of him. However, in retrospect, he should have known or at least, suspected. Though in reality, he could never have imagined, how intimately this golden elf would know of the Maia.

That day, after a particularly long and tiring escapade involving his illustrious twin sons, he was nursing a cup of tea with his beloved friend, Glorfindel and his advisor, Erestor, that he accidently mentioned the child-like being clad in death.

He couldn't remember the exact words that he had uttered for his mind was hazy from fatigue, but he said something along the lines of his children being the reason to drive him to an immature death. Then, he said:

"And the poor fey child of Death would have to come and retrieve me."

Glorfindel, the Chief of the Golden Flower, actually jerked and stared at him as if he had unerringly uncovered a life-long secret.

And he did, as a matter of fact.

**End of First Dream**

I'm updating this today because I unexpectedly got a free break from being stuck in that stone-age island. Came back for the weekend to escape the monotony. ;op

This time, for real, the next update will be in June. And yes, it'll be on Glorfindel/Harry.


	5. 4 First Parting

**To my 100th reviewer: Miss Miffi Muffet, the story you've requested has been posted in as "Dedication", an AU crossover story featuring Gil-galad/Harry ^____^ You can find it at my profile. Enjoy!**

**4. First Parting**

Glorfindel could not ever remember being so awed by someone's presence before.

When Death first arrived to collect him, he had found himself unable to do anything but gaze in amazement at the petite figure in black.

Never before had he imagined Death to be so enchanting.

The light of Aman shone brightly in the fair face framed with ebony hair darker than night. The wavy locks were long and only half-bound, tumbling down over small shoulders to the mid of his back. He wore black silk robes that rippled at his feet when he walked, giving the illusion as if he was gliding. Above all else though, Glorfindel found himself unable to look away from the fey features, the small but high nose, the cupid's lips and his crystal-clear emerald eyes, which first captured his attention.

Those eyes seemed to pierce through his soul and understood him to the core of his very being.

However, it did not take long for the golden elf to realize that those stunning emerald eyes were without any pupils and that Death was blind.

But why would Death need to see when he could sense every living (and dead) beings. In Glorfindel's defence, at that moment in time, he had no knowledge of this little fact nor did he possess any mental capability to reason out this little fact.

His only thought at that time, was that Death was beautiful beyond comprehension.

Later, he cringed when he remembered how hard he had been staring, just like a fool in love. He was sure he left a poor first impression on the exquisite creature that was Death.

-----------------------

When Glorfindel first arrived to Valinor, before the Noldorian elves left and the kinslaying begun, he became friends with a wise Maia called Olórin, who served the Lady of Mercy, Vala Nienna. After he was granted his re-embodiment, they rekindled their friendship almost quite effortlessly.

It was by chance one day, that he stumbled upon Olórin in the Gardens of Irmo, deep in counsel with a small being in black, who turned around when the golden elf approached them. The newest arrival to Valinor immediately recognized the fey Maia, almost stopping in his stride from surprise.

Often, the golden elf would wonder why he had never seen the dark-haired Maia called Death before his kin's renunciation. Though he had heard of rumors of the spirit's beauty before, he had never actively sought the Maia before. But ever since his return to Valinor, try as he might, he had not laid eyes again on the beautiful Maia that had rendered him speechless at first sight.

Now, he was faced with a dilemma.

For as much as he wanted to see the dark-haired spirit again, he hesitated approaching the two Maiar. He certainly did not want to embarass himself further by acting as he did during their initial meeting but he did not want to seem rude by retreating now, especially when both Maiar have now caught sight of him. Furthermore, he did want to make a better second impression by introducing himself to the beautiful Maia, as he had neglected to do so in the beginning.

He soon realised that it was folly in his part. For the moment, the emerald green eyes that the Maia possessed laid upon him, he was lost to all cause.

---------------------

Fortunately or unfortunately for Glorfindel, Olórin did not take too long to reach that realisation either. Of course, one would have to be blinder than a bat not to see such obvious signs of his infatuation.

When he was officially introduced to the petite Maia by Olórin, he could not draw his eyes away from the younger spirit nor pay attention to Olórin's words. He even forgot the reason as to why he was searching for the wise Maia, drawing incredulous looks from both Maiar, which would have been amusing if he had not been so flustered at that time.

It certainly did not help at all that he could not stop looking at the dark-haired Hailer of Doom. At every chance he could, his eyes would be automatically drawn to the fey spirit, every fiber of his being aware of Death's presence.

If that was not indication enough of his fascination, the older Maia caught him staring at Harry from afar one day. The long-haired maia was stroking the white swans of Ossë while conversing with the sea spirit, his dark colouring setting an eye-catching contrast against the pristine feathers. He looked so serene that Glorfindel could only look on with peace in his heart, which was regrettably reflected on his face.

So preoccupied was he, that he did not notice the wise Maia settling down beside him, looking between him and the object of his attention with an amused smile and a twinkle in his eyes, one that Harry would have instantly recognised if he had seen it. Indeed, if Harry had seen it, he would have ran for it too, pride be damned.

------------------------

For some reason, it seemed as if no matter where Harry was in the Undying Lands, Olórin would be there. And with the older Maia, the golden elf would follow, often gazing at him whenever he thought he was being discreet.

Initially, Harry thought he should be annoyed by the persistent staring but surprisingly, Harry found himself more amused than anything.

A seasoned warrior such as Lord Glorfindel acting like a youth with a crush was indeed amusing as it was endearing.

Many had tried to gain his attention before but only the golden elf dared to look into his eyes like Harry was the most wondrous miracle to happen upon this Arda.

It warmed his heart in a way that he previously thought impossible, which understandably worried him. Upon reaching this revelation, he did his best to avoid the Chief of the Golden Flower whenever he was in Valinor. But alas, it was not meant to be. Olórin always found him wherever he was and by default, so would Glorfindel.

Harry was embarassed to admit that, on retrospect, it had taken him years before he actually suspected what the interfering Maia was doing.

By then, it was too late.

For both of them.

---------------------------

It started out small in the beginning.

In the gardens of Lorien, Harry would walk every evening. Beside him, the golden elf-lord would match step by step. Often they would stroll in silence, relaxing their minds and souls in the gardens of rest, secretly enjoying each other's company.

They knew not how or when they started this ritual. Perhaps it was by machination of some meddlesome Maia they mutually knew. It was no longer important.

What was important was that it was there that they took their first step forward.

---------------------------------

The order from Vala Manwë came quite unexpectedly one day, when strife began to brew again in Middle Earth after the fall of Morgoth.

Lord Glorfindel had been chosen to become the Herald of the Valar, which was an honour in itself.

But when Harry was informed of the summons, he found himself disconcerted, almost worried. It surprised him, for it had been centuries since he last felt this way. He realised then that his feelings for the firstborn was not as platonic as he might have wanted it to be.

That evening, when they met as per their unspoken agreement, in the gardens of Lorien, Harry opened his eyes and looked into the Elvenlord's intentions.

Glorfindel could not take his eyes off the evergreen eyes which Harry seldom opened. The green-eyed Maia did not often use his ability on others without permission, always for a reason and not without reluctance. The golden elf knew without a doubt that the beautiful Maia wanted an answer that only he could provide. He also knew that he could not deny anything of his love, for Glorfindel was now certain that he was inevitably in love with the beautiful spirit. Possibly even from first sight.

In silence, the two immortals gazed into each other's eyes for a long moment, enveloped only in each other.

Briefly, Glorfindel wondered if this was what Elwë, Lord of the Teleri, felt when he first laid eyes on Maia Melian. That thought made itself known to Harry, prompting a small smile on his lips.

Fancy equating the two of them to Elu Thingol and his wife, the most loving couple Harry had ever had the fortune of making an acquaintance with.

But that's alright.

He too, would love to possess an everlasting relationship like theirs.

Harry paused, processing that thought again. Then, his lips stretched into a rare smile, blinding his companion with all his brilliance.

Decision finally concluded, Harry tilted his head up, pupil-less eyes still in tuned with the golden elf's sapphire ones. His rose-coloured lips parted slightly.

In response, Glorfindel shifted closer, almost dazedly. As if guided by invisible strings, the golden-haired elf leaned down slightly.

A pale small hand, soft and smooth, rose up to blindly touch the elf's face, leisurely tracing the fair features, remembering every characteristic of this being's visage. Another hand rose up, larger and less smooth, grasping the smaller one.

Glorfindel brought the small hand to his lips, watching the face in front of him carefully for any signs of uneasiness.

There was none.

The Chief of the House of Golden Flower continued to hold the smaller immortal's hand as he moved closer. Harry let him.

Still, not once did their eyes leave one another's.

Only when they were close enough that their breaths intermingled did their eyes close, almost simultaneously.

And their lips met.

--------------------

Harry wondered if this was what love felt like. To be possessed with such a feeling was akin to being alive a thousand times at once. It was dizzying; a myriad of emotions bursting from within his chest, suffocating him and liberating him at the same time.

These feelings that Glorfindel ignited within him frightened him as nothing did. This was something new and unknown to him.

To continue this is madness.

Yet, he could not bring himself to part from the golden elf that had captured him wholly, for he knew now what it was like to be complete.

-------------------

If Glorfindel had been unable to look away from the dark-haired Maia since their first meeting, he was now completely unable to think of naught else but the green-eyed spirit who possessed his heart.

Day by day, night by night, hours and minutes wittled away by thoughts of the beautiful spirit, consumed entirely by his need to be close to the one he loved.

Glorfindel wanted nothing more than to be here, with Harry. But alas, their time to part drew nearer.

"Nothing can separate us," Harry whispered one day, knowing his thoughts and heart, the way he always did.

"Only life," Glorfindel replied, wanting to weep at the thought of separation. The Maia leaned onto his shoulder, smiling gently as he always did when in the presence of the firstborn.

"Yet life is but a butterfly," Harry quoted lightheartedly, momentarily confusing the Elvenlord and distracting him from his depressing thoughts. "Fleeting and all too fickle," he clarified for the elf's benefit.

"It is," his companion said forlornly. Harry reached out to grasp his larger hand, fingering the callused palm soothingly.

"Separation is only momentary, Lord Glorfindel," Harry uttered the elf's title almost teasingly. "Afterall, even Death cannot come between us."

--------------------

Moons later, a white vessel drawn by a large swan left the shores of the Blessed Realms.

The only two occupants of the ship laid side by side, one clad in black while the other in white. Their equally fair faces were so close their hair were a contrasting blend of onyx black and sunshine gold, flowing around them both like a halo. Their hands were clasped, one pale and smooth while the other callused as a result of years of weapon weilding. Their eyes were focused only on each other's, emerald green and sapphire blue. They blinked only when needed and almost simultaneously. Even their breathing was slow and synchronised.

Nothing could distract them from one another. The strife that awaited them in the outside world would not bother them. For these last few moments, only the two of them existed in their own world.

As the ship that bore the Herald and the Guide of the Valar drifted towards Middle Earth, the two beings breathed as one.

**End of First Kiss**

This chapter took 3 weeks and 3 drafts to write. It was harder than I thought. When I finally managed to churn out the last draft, it was in the middle of the night and my brain was already dead (deader than usual, at least, after 2 late nights). But as forementioned in the first chapter, this story seemed to have taken a life of it's own and practically wrote itself. When I read this for editing the next day, I was surprised and quite pleased with its outcome. I really hope everyone enjoyed it as much as I did.

And there will be a part two to their love story but the story has to progress a bit further before it comes to light. Please be patient.

P.S. Yes, I did have a vision of Dumbledore's twinkling eyes when I wrote the part on Olórin/Gandalf interfering with their love life. That's why I imagined Harry running away as fast as he could, pride bedamned indeed. ^________^

Please do tell me what you think. R & R pls.


	6. 5 First Intervention

**5. First Intervention**

The petite figure, perched on the pristine vessel pulled by a large snow-white swan, faced straight ahead across the undulating waves. Completely unconcerned by the violent rocking beneath his feet, the solitary passenger was only focused within his mind and the words of his Vala.

**_"Thou art to aid Maia Olórin in this quest to fully vanquish this evil that resideth still in Arda."_**

No explanation was given as to why he was chosen nor was there any reason given as to why he was sent only after so many years after the first Maiar was sent. But that was alright, the one chosen did not voice out any protest nor question the Vala, for they, Death, was connected in mind. He understood his responsibility, and thus, he would fulfil it.

The white vessel, on which he stood upon, gently came towards the shore as the ropes broke and the swan took off, back towards the Blessed Realm.

Nearly a thousand years after the arrival of the first five istari, Hariel the Black stepped upon the shores of Middle Earth.

----------------------------------

**A thousand years later**

Frodo gasped for breath as quietly as he dared. The three other hobbits with him were also equally frozen with fear. Though hidden beneath the bower of an old tree amidst the blinding darkness of night, the four Halflings were sure that the Black Rider that had been pursuing them relentlessly would surely find them now, close as it was. They swore that they could feel the frozen cold breaths above them.

In one heart-stopping moment, an armored hand reached out as if to grab one of them. The four hobbits thought that death was now at hand.

But the Black Rider paused, and turned.

A brightly glowing forest creature stood not far from where they were. The creature and the Rider scrutinized each other for a second before the stag lowered it antlers and charged. The Rider quickly scrambled onto its horse to ride off into the darkness, as if afraid of this usually docile forest creature.

The Halflings scuttled out to look, only to find themselves being nuzzled by the glowing creature that had saved them.

"Ha ha ha," Pippin almost squealed as the warm muzzle licked his face, "Stop that!"

Assured then, of their well-being, the shining stag disappeared.

"What was that?" Pippin asked, awed.

"It's magic," Merry replied, still staring at the spot where the bright creature once was.

"It was." An unknown voice said from behind them.

All four of them, quickly turned around, giving themselves whiplashes from the sudden movement.

Their eyes widened as they took in the sight of the reddish-brown stallion and the black-cloaked figure standing behind them.

Frodo was frozen in horror until his stupor was broken by the newcomer.

"Are you all unharmed?" a melodious voice asked from behind the dark hood. The head lifted as a pale hand pulled the hood down.

The Hobbits gaped unflatteringly.

"You should make haste, little Halflings," the fair being said, "Before fear returns."

---------------------

Gandalf the Grey paused in the midst of his words. Surprised by the sudden halt, Elrond looked at his old friend and wondered at the wise wizard's actions.

A melodic chirp caught the attention of everyone within the hall, halting their activities. Some of the warriors reached for their hidden weapons and quickly faced the direction from whence the sound came.

A little black bird with a long flowing tail emerged swiftly from the darkening skies and drifted gently towards the grey-clad istari.

"Harry," Gandalf breathed so softly that even Elrond wondered if his Elven ears had heard his words right.

The grey wizard accepted the black messenger which immediately morphed into a small parchment. The aged istari read the message with a solemn expression which turned surprised and hopeful. Elrond wondered what news could bring such great hope to the old wizard.

"Gandalf? Who is the missive from?" Glorfindel asked the still-preoccupied wizard.

"What? Oh, yes. It seems that an old friend of mine is arriving soon to provide us with a little assistance," Gandalf chuckled, the first in a long while since his discovery of Saruman's treachery. It seems as if the short letter had managed to lift his heavy heart and fill the darkness within it with hope. It surprised the istari on how potent Harry was to a weary soul.

Then, as if remembering something, he turned with a blasted twinkle in his eyes and an impish smile towards the golden elf that was now eyeing him with apprehension.

"And who is this old friend of yours?" Elrond asked, looking between the two of them. The other occupants in the Hall was also watching them with interest. The brand of magic that they had just witnessed seemed different from Gandalf's, thus igniting curiousity within the onlookers.

Gandalf, who was now almost grinning, folded the little parchment and kept it in his robes before replying the Lord of Imladris.

Glorfindel of Gondolin, wondered briefly whether it was too late for him to make a quick escape lest the wizard is planning something devious but the next few words stopped him completely in his tracks.

"Hariel the Black."

----------------------------------

Two days after the Hobbit Frodo arrived at Rivendale and exactly a day after the missive arrived, as indicated in the letter, Gandalf, Elrond, Glorfindel, Erestor and a few curious elves including Elrond's twin sons, awaited at the main entrance for the newest istari.

Before long, a rider in black appeared from the foliage and approached the waiting royalty.

Glorfindel felt wonder and love swell within his chest, as it always did whenever he set eyes upon the black wizard. Even now, after years, the dark-haired being never cease to inspire awe within him.

And the years have only seemed to have made him more beautiful.

His dark hair, now long enough to touch the back of his knees, fell in folds of glossy curls across his small shoulders, framing a face still unblemished by time. A face that was now less round but no less beautiful. And his eyes, Glorfindel wondered if his eyes would still be as verdant as the greenest forests. But alas, the Maia almost always kept those sightless orbs closed.

Soon, Hariel the Black reached the front entrance. Gandalf left the group of elves to greet his fellow wizard.

"Brother Gandalf," the unearthly beauty greeted, eyes still closed, giving off a serene expression.

"Harry."

The elves finally approached them as the darkly clad wizard descended gracefully from the bay stallion.

"Lord Elrond, it has been a long time," the istari greeted with a respectful bow.

The Lord of Imladris responded with a bow, though in retrospect, he should have known that the recipient would not be able to see it. In his mind, he was still attempting to come to terms with the fact that Death was visiting his doorway.

Then, Hariel the Black raised those mesmerizing green eyes to settle them on the Lord of Rivendale.

Dimly, as if in a trance, Elrond heard his sons and other bystanders gasp in wonder and Gandalf smiled knowingly.

It seems that even now, the fey one never fails to capture the audience.

**End of First Intervention**

Some will actually recognise parts of this chapter being adapted from the original version of the first chapter of Reset. ^____________^

This is for my reviewer called **BIKILUF**, who was so kind to spend time writing this: "Why does every single f*ng crossover between Harry Potter and Lord Of The Rings have to be Slash?"

First of, I'd like to think of myself as a reasonable person so I won't exactly tell you how much of an idiot I think you are for reading a slash fic when it clearly states that this is a **SLASH FIC** on the summary. If you have problems with your vision, please consult your optometrist. And if you have mental problems, please go to a shrink because you obviously need help if you think wasting your time asking a question that dumb would actually help.

Secondly, using expletives will only make you seem like a neanderthal.

Honestly, if you dun like the way fanfic writers write, do it yourself. It's called fanfic for a reason. You have the liberty to do whatever you want and so do I and anyone else for that matter. Now, if you dun mind, I'm going to report you for abuse. ^^ Thank you for your time.

For all my other reviewers ^__________~ A sincere and heartfelt thank you for spending time to write your thoughts on my fic.

For my 200th reviewer, I will write another Dedication One shot of their chosen theme and pairing as long as it is LOTR/HP. So please read and review. ^^

P.S. thank you, deerang88, for correcting my language ^^ I really appreciate it.


	7. 6 First Encounters

**First Encounters**

**Legolas**

"What have you ever heard about the Black Wizard?"

Legolas paused, arrow in hand and target in sight. Elrond's twin sons continued their conversation, not knowing that they had successfully distracted the Prince of Mirkwood from their little archery competition.

"Only that his beauty rivals that of our Evenstar."

"I heard Father talking with Lord Glorfindel about the Istar coming to Rivendale for the Council."

Legolas shot the arrow, easily hitting the target despite his inattentiveness.

There were whispers within Mirkwood indicating that his father had once stumbled across the black wizard's pathway but his father had commented nothing of the sort. When the prince had enquired about the encounter, his father just mutely shook his head, face reflecting a mixture of confusion and awe, an expression that Legolas had never seen on his father's face before. Since his father deigned not to speak about the incident, the elven prince did not touch on the issue with his adar again.

However, for days, none in the palace could talk of anything except the renowned istar, of his beauty, his powers and his anonymity.

But the question that had circulated the palace for countless days, none could answer it, even those that had been in the same hunting expedition as his father:

'Who is the black wizard?'

-----------------

"His eyes are like the brightest emeralds that you can ever find in the deepest mines!" a dwarf muttered to his companion.

Legolas, who heard those words in passing, resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the clichéd metaphor. However, he had to admit to himself that he was extremely curious about this black wizard, whom even his father had revered, just as many others. Even by dwarves, who liked nothing except gems and mithril.

When he was finally introduced to the wizard by the two besotted Elladan and Elrohir, Legolas felt that he could understand his father's silence for there were no words that could ever define Hariel the Black.

-------------------------------

**Aragorn**

Beautiful as he may be, Aragorn only felt wariness when he approached the black wizard to formally greet the darkly-clad being. For an unknown reason, Aragorn could only discern that this wizard was far different from the Mithrandir that he knew. The moment their eyes met, he knew instinctively that Hariel the Black was more dangerous and lethal than any Istari he had ever met.

Soon, Aragorn would find that he was correct in his assumptions.

"It is prudent that you should tread so carefully, Master Aragorn," the wizard said, with the same indulging smile that he often smiled. Aragorn tensed, even more wary than before. Ignoring his audience's suspicion, the black-clad wizard continued.

"Often than not, others are so diverted by my looks that they overlook the fact that I am a wizard still," Hariel smiled wider, opening those blind green eyes that could see so much and yet none at all. Captivated by the endless orbs, Aragorn wondered what the ageless being could see within him.

The wizard reached out and caressed his face gently, almost sadly and emphatically.

"You'll face a long and hard journey. But that's alright, for your loved ones will be with you. All way through, till the very end."

--------------------------

**Gimli**

They almost stumbled over each other when Gimli was making a racket about the elves and their lack of hospitality in providing guidance around their abodes. The lithe figure in black had appeared suddenly from the corner when Gimli was grumpily looking for his way to his room and stopped right before they bowled over each other.

"Uuh! Watch where ya going," he growled, before he had a good look at his would-be assailant.

At first, the dwarf wondered what this human child that had just reached maturity was doing here in Rivendale.

"I apologise, Master Gimli," the pale-faced child said.

The shorter being blinked, wondering for a moment on how this human knew his name when he had not even introduced himself yet, especially when he had not even opened his eyes to see who was in front of him. No wonder they collided against one another!

No matter. It was more important on finding out who this human was. Scrutinising the dark-haired child carefully, it was then that Gimli realised that this so-called child was actually a wizard. Provided, he did not look like one but he was wearing black robes similar to Gandalf's grey robes.

"Who might you be, Master wizard?" the dwarf finally asked.

The black wizard opened his eyes and Gimli widened his.

"I am Hariel the Black."

-----------------------------

**Boromir**

He remembered his father's opinion of the little known wizard who had visited the White City briefly mere moons ago. Denethor, steward of Gondor, had only uttered the black wizard's name with contempt.

"That being will spoil and rot your taste for anything beautiful," he had muttered darkly, then turned away from his sons' questioning eyes and would not answer anymore of his queries about the least known yet famed wizard.

Then, the moment came where he finally set his eyes upon the youngest wizard, his breathe was caught and he finally understood his father's words.

He would never again set eyes on another being more beautiful than Hariel the Black.

**End of First Encounters**

* * *

+ A little note:

Notice that not everyone is attracted to Harry the same way. Frodo and the Hobbits thought of Harry as striking, though not as beautiful as the elves. The elves themselves think that Harry is beautiful like one of the Eldar. Different Men and Maiar has different opinions of his beauty.

Here's the reason: Harry is the embodiment of Death. To the eldar, he is part of life, beautiful in his own right. To the Hobbits, who are peace-loving and especially life-loving (if that makes sense) Harry though fair in face is not exactly very attractive. The men, fickle as they are, some crave death and destruction (though not for themselves, selfish beings that humans are). In other words, those who crave for glory and battle, consciously or unconsciously, will be attracted to Harry because these desires will only bring, ultimately, the end of Life.

Now, I would like to end my little author's note by thanking all those that had reviewed for this story and for your patience. Since my exams are finished now, I should be able to update more frequently, including First Meetings and my other stories. ^____________^

P.S. there's a poll going in my profile on the next story that I'll be writing after I complete 'Reset'. Please vote. Thanks ^^


	8. 7 First Night

**7. First Night**

Glorfindel knocked lightly on the ornate door to the guest room and waited shortly before it slid open slowly, revealing his lover's slight form.

Hariel was wearing a thin robe of forest green. Glorfindel had never seen him wear any other colour other than black nor so little before, at least not when Hariel was expecting company. For a moment, he could do naught but stand at the doorway and stare at the beautiful wizard.

"Are you going to stand there all night, Lord Glorfindel?" the petite istar asked with an impish tone that snapped the golden-haired elf from his stupor. He quickly made way into the istar's room, his eyes never leaving the other's face, almost like a man deprived of sunlight for far too long.

Hariel reached up and touched his lover's fair face, tracing every feature as he always did. And as always, Glorfindel intercepted his small hand and kissed it before pulling the petite wizard into his arms. The golden-haired Elvenlord closed his eyes with a sigh, taking in the scent of his long-separated love.

"I've missed you dearly."

Harry smiled into the broad shoulders that his face was pressed against, arms encircling the other's waist in response.

"And I you, my Lord Glorfindel," he replied, then pushed away slightly to face his lover.

"Stay with me tonight."

Glorfindel's breath was caught again at Harry's request.

"Yes," the golden elf whispered back, kissing the soft curled lips that awaited his. "Yes," he repeated again softly against his beloved's lips.

------------------------

It was not the first time they made love but it was their first night together in a long while, having separated by the missions bestowed upon them by Valar and then, by various circumstances that entailed secrecy concerning their relationship. But neither of them uttered a word of complain, for they were content to keep the knowledge of their love to themselves. It was just as well that both of them were possessive and protective over one another, prompting them to keep their silence.

Either way, Harry thought to himself, this concerned no one but us. With that in mind, Harry leaned upwards to kiss the broad shoulders that was damp with sweat as his lover's erratic breaths stirred his ebony bangs. Recovering slowly from their tender joining, his golden elf was murmuring affectionate words filled with adoration as Harry stroked his lover's features, basking deeply and silently in the presence of their love.

------------------

The light of Isil loved Harry, Glorfindel decided as he gently traced his lover's soft moonlit skin. Gently, he laid a lingering kiss on the bare shoulder that he continued to caress. Harry stirred gently from his light slumber and turned towards him.

The gentle smile filled with love etched on the ageless face made Glorfindel wonder in awe what he could have possibly done to deserve this. This wonderful gift that Valar had bestowed upon him.

Long ebony hair tickled his chest and face as the istar leaned on his elbows to kiss his forehead, then down to his nose and then lips. The elvenlord sighed in contentment, pulling the other closer. Hariel then laid still upon his lover's bare chest, listening to the rhythmic heartbeat beneath his ear. Glorfindel's face was tilted towards the open windows but his entire attention was on his lover as long tapered fingers stroked the ebony strands that splayed across his chest and onto the bedsheets.

"I wish..." the Elvenlord whispered almost inaudibly, as if afraid that everything would disappear if he should shatter the silence, "I wish we can stay like this forever."

Harry just hummed in agreement.

They witnessed disappearance of Isil from the sky and the rising of Anar together, wrapped in blankets warmed by their entwined bodies and the rays of the morning sun.

-----------------

Despite his physical blindness, Harry's fingers were quick and deft as he buttoned Glorfindel's robes and smooth the velvety material over the firstborn's chest.

They shared a lingering kiss while the golden elf tried vainly to tie a deep green length of belt around Harry's lithe waist. The istar chuckled lightly at his poor attempt but otherwise ignored his uncharacteristic blunderings. Instead, he wordlessly summoned the sapphire blue belt from their bed to his outstretched hand and slipped it around the elf, knotting it skillfully and promptly.

"We have lingered for too long, my Lord Glorfindel," he whispered against his elf's lips which have yet to leave his.

"We have," Glorfindel replied, his fingers finally abandoning their futile attempt, dropping the long emerald-coloured belt to the floor. His arms wound around the small waist on their own accord, drawing the wizard to him.

"Thus, we should hurry," Harry said, smiling as he leaned on his lover's broad shoulder and his hands splayed against the elf's broad chest. The elf closed his eyes and hummed noncommittedly, evidently content with staying where they were.

Harry chuckled again and opened his mouth but a slight knock on the door interrupted Harry's further words, However, it also successfully broke their embrace.

"I am coming!" Harry announced, smoothing his suddenly-immaculate robes.

Glorfindel blinked, momentarily confused by the wizard's perfect attire. The robes were wrinkle free and the length of cloth that he had dropped were now belted across his lover's waist primly.

Wizards, the golden-haired elf thought to himself, half in fondness, half in exasperation.

As if knowing his thoughts despite his closed eyes, Harry chuckled before heading towards the door with Lord Glorfindel trailing behind him good-naturedly.

-----------------

The occupants of the Hall of Fire was well on the way of enjoying their meal when they arrived.

The two of them, the elf-lord and the wizard, were a complete contrast. From their robes, white and black respectively, to their hair, one golden blond and the other ebony black, to their eyes, sapphire blue and emerald green. Together, no one could deny that they made a striking pair, drawing every eyes to their presence the moment they stepped into the Hall.

Even Elrond himself was unable to tear his eyes away from the couple. He knew that the two of them were involved but none other than Glorfindel, himself and Gandalf knew of this.

Surely, it was not easy for the golden elf to be apart from the one he loved. Elrond himself understood the pain of being separated from his loved one. Especially one's mate.

Perhaps this was what made it easier for the dark-haired Elvenlord to accept the fact that this child-like spirit named Death was also like them, that he lived, he breathed, he loved, he hurt and he bled, like all living beings.

----------------------

Frodo turned from his meal when elves and men alike grew quiet, though his kin continued eating without a moment of pause. He looked over to the direction where many of them were staring, catching sight of the two newcomers.

One of them was the golden-haired Elvenlord introduced to him as Lord Glorfindel while the other was oddly familiar to him. Frodo frowned lightly as he tilted his head to get a better look at the darkly-clad arrival.

Just then the long-haired being turned to him slightly, as if feeling his gaze upon him. A familiar face with closed eyes greeted him. An unforgettable face that he had seen on their journey to Bree. The hooded young wizard that had saved them from the Nazgul.

"It is you!" Frodo exclaimed in surprised delight, startling all those present including Gandalf, who was seated beside him.

The fair being in black turned his face fully towards the hobbit, though his eyes were still closed. His gentle smile grew slightly wider as he made his way towards the hobbits and his fellow wizard. To those who knew him well, he was quite blatantly ignoring the looks from the other occupants of the Hall. For those who did not, he was merely blind to the staring.

"Master Baggins, I'm glad to meet you here," Hariel greeted when he reached them. "And I'm glad to find you well."

"As well as I can be," Frodo replied, then added in respect, "sir."

"Please," the seemingly gentle-looking istari insisted with a genial smile, "call me Harry."

_***Flashback***_

_A fair face framed with dark locks greeted them. Their saviour's eyes were green, a colour so deep that they seem bottomless. Or at least, that was what Peregrine claimed later, when they were finally on the raft that led them safely to Bree._

_"Quickly now," the dark-haired beauty urged, snapping them out of their stupor._

_The four hobbits wisely listened to their saviour, turning to run towards the waterfront._

_Behind them, they could hear the trotting hoofs of a horse. Frodo turned, to see the black-clad rider following behind them as if protecting them._

_And sure enough, when two equally dark figures emerged from further behind them, shrieking in the way that pierced their souls, their saviour turned around to confront them. Still running, the four of them turned their heads in time to see the longhaired rider lifting a pure black staff from beneath his cloak._

_A wizard! The young man is a wizard!_

_A bright light erupted from the tip of the black staff, enveloping everything and momentarily blinding the little halflings._

_When they finally recovered their vision, the black wizard was already amongst them and the two fearsome Black Riders was no where to be seen._

_"We have to make haste now," the black-clad wizard coaxed the awed hobbits, urging them along. The brown stallion, that looked so intimidating with its largeness, docilely nuzzled the nearest one, which was Sam. The chubby gardener jumped nervously._

_Frodo was the first one to make the move. He quickly made way to the harbor as the others followed closely behind. The young wizard followed at a slower pace._

_At the edge of the pier, Frodo finally turned to the wizard as Merry and Pippin readied the boat._

_"May I ask your name, kind sir?"_

_The black-clad wizard smiled gently. Frodo found that he was less daunting when not mounted on that large stallion and more striking upclose._

_"You may. It is Hariel. Hariel the Black. And you should go now, for Brother Gandalf is awaiting you with worry festering within his heart."_

_***End of Flashback***_

"Then please call us by our given names," Frodo said gratefully.

Harry smiled.

"Very well, Frodo."

**End of First Night**

**Author's Note: To clarify things, Harry/Hariel/Celahir (Seldom used unless referred to by a resident or former resident of Valinor) is known as Hariel the Black in Middle Earth NOT as Master of Death. ^^**

It seems a lot of the readers already suspect how the story will go but unfortunately, I will neither confirm it nor deny it. Everyone will have to find out as the story progress by itself. If there's any questions that u'd like to ask, pls do so and I'll get back to u with a PM. ^______________^ In the meantime, pls r and r. If there's any mistake noticeable, pls tell me and I'll correct it asap.

And pls vote for the next story in my profile. Thank you.


	9. 8 First Council

Author's Note: It seems for whatever reason, that I receive less reviews whenever there is a chapter with Harry/Glorfindel in it. I'm wondering why. Is it because I suck at writing romance? Curious. Curious. Curious. Will someone be kind enough to enlighten me?

Also, someone once asked if Harry would ever show more emotions. I hope this chapter satisfy your curiousity.

**First Council**

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom," Elrond started the council with solemn words.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo," the Elvenlord gestured towards the Hobbit, who hesitantly stepped out. In the midst of all the stares, he placed the golden ring of Sauron upon the pedestal. Then, he returned to his seat between the two istari present.

"So it is true…" the muttered words came from the Man of Gondor, Boromir, son of Denethor.

Hariel remembered the latter name from his brief visit of the white city despite the fact the steward had done nothing to warrant his remembrance. He only remembered the man because it was only mere months ago that he had visited the city with Gandalf. He had never met the steward's sons though but he knew better than to jump to conclusions about men, who are ever so unpredictable.

Boromir stood and said: "In a dream… I saw the Eastern sky grow dark… but in the West a pale light lingered… a voice was crying: 'Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's bane is found!'"

As he spoke, he drew closer and closer to the ring, reaching out with his hand to take hold of the ring. Hariel tensed, ready to stand to give this insolent young man a piece of his mind. Like father, like son, so it seems.

But alas, before the Black Wizard could do anything, Elrond shot up from his seat shouting the man's name as Gandalf sprang from his and begin chanting in a tongue that struck fear in all hearts.

Boromir recoiled in aversion and sank into his seat while the elves flinched as the words of Mordor continued to resonate until the Grey Wizard was intercepted.

"Gandalf!"

Hariel's clear voice rang loud, the first that many of them have ever witnessed. It served it's purpose, for Gandalf's state of trance was broken when his words were interrupted.

"That is enough, brother Gandalf. Please sit down."

The elderly wizard did as he was told, much to the surprise of those present. Hariel ignored them in favour of directing his attention towards his fellow kin who was looking older and more worried than he had ever seen him.

Finally, Elrond broke the stifling silence.

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris," the Elvenlord said evenly.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond," Gandalf replied, jadedly. "For the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West. The Ring is altogether evil," he warned, shooting a glance at the Gondorian Steward-Prince.

"It is a gift," Boromir contradicted, standing once more. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?"

Hariel frowned at the foolishness uttered by this human. Use the Ring of Sauron? It would be suicide!

"Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!"

But the rightful heir to the throne of Gondor broke into his speech.

"You cannot wield it. None of us can. The Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master," Aragorn said softly and prudently.

"And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" Boromir asked scornfully, prompting a young wood-elf to jump up in his seat.

"This is no mere Ranger!" the blond elf, whom Hariel recongnised as the Prince of Mirkwood, Legolas Thranduillion, said. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

"Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?" the steward-prince asked in disbelief.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," the elven prince confirmed, still angry on behalf of his friend.

Unable to endure it any further, Aragorn gestured towards the elf and said in elvish: "Sit down, Legolas."

The elf did so with reluctance but his intervention has served its purpose for it had discouraged the Gondorian from continuing his previous argument over the Ring, for now.

"Gondor has no king," Boromir muttered as he made his way to his seat for the second time. "Gondor needs no king," he murmured, almost to himself.

Hariel sighed quietly, echoed more loudly by Gandalf.

"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." the grey-clad wizard said.

With that said, Elrond stood, "You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed."

A short moment of silence dwelled before one of the dwarves stood and hefted up his axe.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" he grunted. And before anyone could stop him, he swung his axe with all his might at the Ring, only to have his axe shatter into pieces. The momentum threw him backwards, upsetting his balance and causing him to landed onto his back with a loud groan.

Harry had to stop himself from leaping up from the fell voices that streamed out from the cursed Ring. Despite his agitation, it did not escape him nor the Grey Pilgrim the sudden jolt given by the hobbit seated between them. Such was the connection between the Ring and the bearer, Harry thought to himself as he shifted slightly towards the halfling.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess," Lord Elrond explained with a hint of annoyance. It was clear to Harry that the Elvenlord was also affected. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came."

The Lord of Imladris paused, before regretfully uttering: "One of you must do this."

Silence reigned the Hall again before Boromir decided he had enough.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the Great Eye is ever-watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with 10,000 men could you do this. It is folly."

His words once again provoked Legolas to jump from his seat. "Did you hear nothing that Lord Elrond said? The Ring must be destroyed."

Gimli interrupted angrily, still burning from his previous embarassment.

"And I suppose you think you are the one to do it?" he grouched, standing up as well.

Boromir too stood.

"And what if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" the man demanded.

"I will die before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!" this was spat out by the dwarf whom Hariel thought was either suicidal or brainless to provoke a room full of elves, or both.

Sure enough, all the elves, minus Lord Elrond and a few others, stood and had to be held back by Legolas's outstretched arms.

"Never trust an elf!"

Honestly, Hariel thought to himself as chaos erupted at those words. If he could, he would have rolled his eyes heavenward. He felt Gandalf get up as well and move towards the bickering group, telling them that strife between them would make the enemy stronger. Hariel hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and opening his mouth. Never before had he needed to raise his voice so many times in a day.

"I will take it! I will take the Ring to Mordor!"

Maybe not.

Hariel turned towards the interloper as Gandalf closed his eyes in despair. The hobbit's words immediately quieted everyone, shifting their attention to Frodo once more. The halfling seem to deflate a little under their scrutiny but Hariel noticed that in their gazes several of those present looked ashamed by their conduct and smiled to himself.

"Though…I do not know the way…" the little Hobbit continued, almost mumbling self-consciously.

"Foolish child."

Frodo turned to the black wizard in surprise. The others followed as well, shocked by his quiet words.

"Do you truly believe that you alone can bring about the end of the ring?" he asked quite nonchalantly, as if asking about the weather.

Frodo flinched. The others continued to look on, stunned by his seemingly callous words, as Gandalf wondered at Harry's motive.

Hariel opened his bottomless emerald eyes then, fixing them at the stunned hobbit.

"Do you?"

"I…"

"Frodo Baggins, do you believe that you will succeed?"

"Yes, I think…I will take it to Mordor," he said, with determination that he could not feel in his heart. For a moment, as Hariel the Black stared at him, he thought that the dark-haired wizard knew of his hesitation and doubts. But the wizard did not call him to his misgivings. Instead, Hariel closed his unseeing eyes, face in its perpetual serenity.

"Then, you will," came the soft-spoke words.

The little hobbit stared at the black wizard in surprise at the istari's words, which seemed to reflect unfaltering faith in him. Feeling for the first time, the pain in his shoulder disappearing completely, Frodo felt warmth spreading through his chest and his cheeks, not in embarassment but in gratefulness. Unbeknownst to the others, his simple words gave Frodo a little more faith, a little more courage and a little more hope that all will come to pass.

After a moment of silence, as if Harry's words were the deciding factor, Gandalf nodded sagely and said.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins…for as long as it is yours to bear," he clapped his hand on the hobbit's small shoulder and stood behind him, signifying his full support of the halfling's decision.

Aragorn stood with a grim smile and said: "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will."

He then stepped forward, kneeling before the Hobbit as he took hold of his hands. "You have my sword," he vowed.

Legolas stepped up. "And you have my bow."

And much to the elf's consternation, the dwarf Gimli too stood up and announced: "And my axe!"

Boromir stepped towards them, almost cautiously.

"You carry the fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council…then Gondor shall see it done." the man said.

Gandalf then turned to his kin, almost expectantly.

"Harry?"

But Hariel the Black kept quiet and his face turned away as if his attention was bestowed else where.

"Then, it is decided..." Elrond started slowly, also looking at the Black Wizard carefully.

But Samwise Gamgee suddenly jumped out from behind some shrubbery, running up to stand beside Frodo.

"Mr. Frodo isn't going anywhere without me!" the fair-haired Hobbit said, quite valiantly.

"It is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not…" Elrond said lightly, with an almost amused gleam in his eyes. Sam looked torned between embarassment at his own audacity and determination to join the quest.

Just then, another two hobbits jumped out to join the group standing in the middle of the hall, grinning impishly at those present.

"You need people of intelligence on this sort of…mission…quest…thing," the younger of the two claimed loudly, prompting a mocking look from his cousin Merry.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip," he said to the other hobbit, who gave him an annoyed look.

"Nine companions," Elrond said, surveying them all. "Very well. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring," Elrond stated in all seriousness.

_**'The Company of the Ring shall be Nine; and the Nine Walkers shall be set against the Nine Riders that are evil...,' **_the prophesized words that Vala Namo had uttered before he left Valinor echoed in Harry's mind. (1) He smiled to himself but kept mum.

Just then, Pippin opened his mouth and ruined the solemnity of the meeting.

"Great. Where are we going?" asked Pippin, prompting everyone to stare at him, half in disbelief and half in bemusement.

Harry laughed out gaily.

----------------

The russet stallion belonging to Harry was awaiting with the others' on the morning they were to set out. The hobbits were running around trying to get every ready, with special attention to their provisions of course. Gandalf stood aside with Harry as they watched the others prepare for the journey.

"Harry, can I not convince you to come with us on this journey? We will, no doubt, be in need of your assistance," the grey wizard whispered, aware that many were eavesdropping on them, not out of treachery but out of curiousity.

"Brother Gandalf," the other's fair face showed hesitancy, a look that was quite unlike Harry. Gandalf wondered briefly what could bring such anxiety to the usually aloof wizard. "Surely you know by now," the dark-haired istari whispered back, "that if I should follow you, so would the darkness."

Gandalf's frown deepened as he took in the words.

Harry turned fully towards the other istari, normally impassive face grim with bitterness.

"His eye is constantly on me. Even after so many years, it has never ceased," the Black Wizard said, almost inaudibly.

"His fascination of you still holds strong then," Mithrandir sighed in despair.

"Yes," the other wizard replied, quite shortly, another uncharacteristic trait. "Saruman has tried to contact me in hopes of turning me to his side though he has failed. My spies told me that he was not pleased but he has not made that known to Saruman, for the fool is still of use to him. And Saruman still thinks that all he is interested in is my power over Death."

But the two wizards knew better than to think that way. After all, how long had the being in question been yearning to possess Hariel even before his renunciation of the Blessed Realms. And even after his departure, Sauron still had his eye on the dark-haired spirit, though not many knew of it.

"I came only to give you council from what I've learnt," Hariel continued after a moment of silence.

"For that, I am grateful," Gandalf replied. Hariel was the only one amongst them that could access places that others could not and obtain information privy to selected few.

"And I am sorry that I did not heed your warning before," the grey wizard said regretfully. He remembered the words his companion had once uttered to him, when Hariel was first introduced to Saruman, long before they set off to Middle Earth as wizards.

_"He desires greatness and with it, he will bring great misfortune,"_ the black-clad Maia had said.

Gandalf had not believe him then, wanting to trust his oldest friend Curunir, but he wished dearly now that he had. He now realise too the reason why the Valar sent Hariel to Middle Earth, not only because of the loss of the other three istari but because they knew that Saruman too was lost to the darkness. (2)

Oh, how he had failed his mission. Even before it had begun...

A soft small hand reached out to touch his, soothing his self-loathe. The grey wizard lifted his gaze to see the other's forgiving smile.

"Come send me off, Brother Gandalf," the beautiful wizard said softly, tugging on his hand gently.

The two wizard strolled towards the waiting elvenlord Glorfindel, who smiled at the brotherly affections between the two, just as Gandalf smiled at the love reflected in the elvenlord's eyes when it settled on the younger of the two wizards.

Together, the three walked towards the gathering Fellowship.

The black wizard mounted his horse but before the russet stallion took a step, he turned around towards the Fellowship that was lingering around.

"I might not be able to go with you on your journey," Harry said finally, "but if you should need help, I will know. And I will come."

* * *

End of First Council

(1) this was part of Elrond's line in Fellowship of the Ring. I wanted the original number to remain and I didn't want Harry to join in the journey except to help when aid is needed. In Silmarillion, Vala Namo or Mandos predicted various prophecies that came true so it shouldn't be surprising if Harry knows of the future before many others.

(2) This is to explain as to why Harry/Hariel/Celahir was sent so many years later. Because of the gradual loss of the two Blue wizards and then the Brown Wizard to his beloved animals, then Saruman to his greed, the Valar decided to send one more Maia to help Gandalf. And lo and behold, Harry was chosen.


	10. 9 First Assistance

Disclaimer: Since I last checked, nothing is mine. I should know, I check everyday ;op

Sorry for the long wait, I was on my last clinical posting and then i had my professional exams so I was a little busy. Anyway, enough talk, here's the next chap.

* * *

**9. First Assistance**

Harry stroked the phoenix gently, crooning to the fiery bird as he watched the skies. The phoenix's feathers were glowing brightly, the only light in the darkness of the night, keeping all nocturnal creatures away, though Harry was never in much danger of them. His companion shifted in his lap until he was evidently comfortable in his perch and then, he begun to thrill gently.

"I know, my friend," Harry replied, "Radagast has yet to know of Saruman's betrayal. I... am a bit reluctant to inform him of this, just to ask for his assistance."

His feathered friend thrilled again.

"Even if this was his mission too, Radagast has the choice to participate in it and he has made it evident that his heart will always be with his animal friends," Harry answered.

The phoenix hopped from his lap, thrilling almost furiously.

"No, I do not think that Saruman has any standing in Radagast's decisions," Harry vouched. Just then, his sensitive ears caught the sound of something approaching. Fast. And there were flapping of wings. It sounded as if there were a number of them. As they grew closer, Harry became aware of what they were. Beside him, the phoenix's glow dimmed, disappearing almost entirely to hide their position. His horse too became quiet as if knowing that they were in a precarious situation.

Above him, the Crebain from Dunland soared past.

When the flock was gone, Harry turned to his fiery companion.

"It looks like I stand corrected, Fawkes." (1)

* * *

Harry sent his old friend off to the Brown Wizard with the news concerning their kin's treachery in hopes that Radagast will cease lending Saruman more of his beloved animals to spy on the fellowship.

With that done, he begun his journey again towards Gondor. It didn't take long before his progress was halted again. Harry felt it in the air as it passed, carrying the fell voice that was so familiar yet foreign to him.

Saruman, Harry thought to himself in exasperation. He had quite a few choice words for that idiot. Foolish greedy old man were among the few tamer ones.

He got down from his horse and lifted his ebony staff. The countercurse came to his mouth easily as he directed his will towards Isengard.

* * *

Gandalf felt it almost immediately. The magic of another working against Saruman's foul curse. His lips twitched as he continued his incantation amidst the howling snow storm, keeping in mind that beside him, four terrified little hobbits were cowering from the harsh weather.

* * *

Saruman sneered ominously as he felt the presence of another's power.

Fools. Did they think that just because their number are more significant they can defeat him?

He snarled, struck his staff against the floor and doubled his will.

* * *

Gandalf frowned and prepared to counter the foul incantation stronger but was hindered when the snow, ice and rock from above the fellowship began to rain upon them.

* * *

Harry gasped, snapping out of his trance as Gandalf's presence was wrenched suddenly away.

That indespicable bastard! What has he done to Gandalf?

The black wizard frowned.

Now that Gandalf must retreat from the Mount of Caradhas, he will probably head over to the Mines of Moria. Perhaps Harry should send a little more assistance. Knowing what was lurking within the shadows all too well, the fellowship would need all the help they can get.

* * *

In the darkness of Moria, Gandalf scrunched his nose in disguntlement. He huffed as he tried to remember which pathway he should choose in this forsaken mine. The darkness was getting to him but he dared not risk more light in fear of being discovered. Just then, as he contemplated on choosing the route less foul, he caught sight of a small glow from his peripheral vision, alerting him to another's presence. He turned only to catch sight of a small bobbling light drifting from above.

_'A firefly?_' he thought to himself but then recognition set in as the little light begin to beckon him, flitting to and fro in front of him.

"Gandalf, what is that?" Frodo asked from beside him, as the others stood up to watch the seemingly harmless ball of light.

"A will-of-wisp, I believe Harry called them," Gandalf replied, "One of his spies."

"Spies?" Boromir asked in surprise. The hobbits were now surrounding the little bobbing glow in fascination.

"Ah, yes, Harry has an arsenal of creatures that serves him," Gandalf clarified as he followed the bobbing light towards the... ah hah! the less foul route.

"They are quite... magical," he chuckled. Very magical, in fact.

* * *

Gandalf remembered the first time Harry called upon one of these creatures to show him. Back then, he had been known as Ol rin and Harry was called Celahir. The dark-haired Maia had confessed that Ol rin was the first, other than Vala Namo and Vala Vaire, to know of his ability.

"Have you always been able to do this?" Olorin asked as the fiery bird tilted its head, examining the Maia in equal fascination. Amazing, this 'phoenix' with it's flaming wings and blazing eyes.

"I do not know," Celahir answered him, "I am Death, yet I am Life. Is it confusing?"

Olorin did not blame him for thinking so.

"Or am I the end and the beginning?"

The wise Maia paused in silent contemplation.

"Perhaps, you are both."

The blind Maia tilted his head endearingly, reminding Olorin of a curious little kitten.

"Celahir, there can be no beginning without an end." (2)

* * *

Gandalf was jolted out of his memory when a cry of horror erupted from Gimli's lips. The wizard turned just as the dwarf broke off from the group to enter one of the open doors.

"Gimli!"

The rest of the fellowship followed after the wailing dwarf, leaving the little will-of-wisp to bob in midair for a while, as if at a lost. Then, it drifted after the fellowship into the tomb.

The glowing creature wondered if it should hurry the old wizard to follow him rather than read the tome that he had found. There was nothing here in the mines worth examining after all. The wisp had already seen most that can be seen here and most of which are dangerous. And dangerous equals bad things.

Unfortunately, the wisp could not distract the wizard nor did it catch the little hobbit from fiddling the precariously perched skeleton sitting on the well.

As chaos rained upon them, the little wisp could do naught but follow the fellowship and witness the fall of Gandalf.

* * *

Harry gripped his staff and breathed in deeply as his little friend conveyed his news. The will-of-wisp bobbed gently, almost dispirited with the terrible information that it had brought for the gentle wizard.

"Thank you, my friend," the sable-haired istar said, sorrow painting the wizard's fair features.

The mythical glow bobbed once in acknowledgement, then it disappeared as if it never existed.

The black wizard got up from where he sat and turned to his languid companion, who regarded him through half-lidded eyes. Harry patted the giant feline's head gently and could feel rather than hear the pleased rumbling purr.

"It seems as if it is time for me to intervene," he said, pushing the pain of loss from his heart. The end will not claim Gandalf so swiftly yet, for the other wizard has yet to fulfill his mission. He knew this for certain.

He also knew that he should focus on the priority of the mission. And that precedence is Frodo Baggins and the One Ring.

At his words, his majestic companion too got up from his sprawl on the cave floor and spread out its impressive wings. The resulting strong breeze that swept across Harry's face did not faze the wizard but the thought of arriving at Lothlorien with his friend did.

"Perhaps, it is not time yet for you to show yourself, my friend," he said to the massive beast, who huffed indignantly, sending a burst of warm air towards the black-clad wizard. Harry smiled a little at his companion's petulance.

"Do not worry, I assure you that I will be in need of your help very soon," he stated, then gathered his cloak and exited the cave, leaving his old friend and its pride behind.

"For now, I have a fellowship to join."

**End of First Assistance**

* * *

(1) I'm not sure whether the Crebain are dark creatures but I believe it was written in the book that Radagast unwittingly provided creatures to Saruman for spying not knowing the white wizard's betrayal.

(2) Harry's powers: Originally, I wanted Harry to possess only one significant power, which is over death. But subsequent chapters that I have drafted suddenly meant that I needed to change some of my original plans. Anyway, I like the idea of blending the HP/LOTR worlds a little. Just to explain a little though, Harry maybe able to 'summon' these creatures but they may or may not choose to serve him.

Special thanks to seventhSINwrath, Vairetwillight, PeanuTree, AiedailWing, quaero lumen, Mish, deerang88, lunarrose3, KingofLoosePages for your interesting reviews. I really appreciate it and enjoyed reading your reviews.

p.s. someone mentioned that Harry seemed like a child. It's not that he's in a child form but he's petite compared to the other characters of LOTR.

p.s.s. Kudos to the person who can guess what creature is described in the last sequence of this chapter. If u can't guess what it is, u'll find out in the later chapters. ;op

and yes, i know this chap is short. it's more like filler, so dun worry, I'll be updating the next chapter soon enough. Once I update First Meetings.

Ah, one more last thing, my 300th reviewer will get a HPLOTR fic of their request, as per tradition. ^____^


	11. 10 First Appearance

_A light touch started from his forehead down to the tip of his nose to his lips, teasing. A smile twitched minutely at the corner of his mouth but he continued to feign sleep as soft lips replaced the gentle fingers, accompanied by the familiar feeling of soft tendrils brushing his face._

_"'Fin."_

_The golden elf hummed in contentment, unwilling to wake up from this pleasant dream. _

_"Open your eyes, my love."_

_Frowning at the tone in his lover's voice, the elvenlord opened his eyes to behold his dark-haired lover leaning over him. He knew then that this was a dream for Harry was elsewhere monitoring Sauron's moves. However, it did not stop him from automatically reaching out to pull the istar into his embrace but his lover straightened to a sitting position in his bed. Glorfindel too sat up, sapphire eyes never leaving Harry's distressed features._

_"Harry? What is wrong?"_

_"I have to join the others," his lover answered him, characteristically cutting down to the chase._

_For a moment, the elvenlord did not understand who Harry was talking about but it did not take long for him to realise that he meant the fellowship._

_"What has happened?" Glorfindel asked, a foreboding feeling blooming his chest._

_"Gandalf has fallen."_

**10 - First Appearance**

Merely three days after the fellowship arrived at Lothlorien with one member short, a black-clad rider arrived with haste.

The archers fired a warning shot but the rider disregarded it, easily catching the arrow and discarding it with a flick of the wrist. From the swift and precise movement, the hooded figure was obviously not human. Haldir quickly jump down to accost the rider when all the shots from the archers were easily dodged by the darkly clad figure.

"Halt!" the blond elf called out in warning, unsheathing his sword.

The rider stopped short of running over the marchwarden. Without any word, a pale hand rose from beneath the cloak and Haldir tensed. But the hand only continued upwards to the rider's hood.

The dark cloth was pulled away revealing a face so fair that all the elves present wondered briefly if he too was an Eldar. But the pointed ears were absent and no elf on Middle Earth had hair that black.

"I am Hariel the Black. I need to speak to the Fellowship of the Ring."

* * *

_**"He is our guest, Hariel the Black..."**_

The sentinels would have denied access to the suspicious black-clad intruder if not for the message that their Lady suddenly sent through their minds.

The Black Wizard patiently waited for them to process the Monarch's message, before Haldir finally gestured with his hand.

"Please follow me, istar," he said cautiously.

The dark-haired beauty nodded and the horse that the wizard was perched upon obeyed his master's unspoken command, turning toward the pale-haired marchwarden.

Haldir quickly led the way towards Lothlorien, pushing away his curiousity and the thoughts on the beguiling wizard.

* * *

The dark-clad istari seemed to be examining Lothlorien with closed eyes, attracting elves with his dark clothing and peculiar behaviour.

Haldir himself did not let his eyes wander from the wizard for even a moment. Though still wary of the intruder's sudden appearance, he was also undeniably fascinated by this beautiful wizard that was clearly blind.

Then the arrival of his Lord and Lady interrupted his thoughts and the istar's perusal of the hidden city.

"Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel," Hariel greeted with his soft melodic voice. "Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo" (A star shines upon the hour of our meeting)

"Hariel the Black," the Lord of Lothlorien greeted as the Lady of the Woods surveyed the unexpected Wizard. Galadriel had anticipated many things when she had first heard news of the Black Wizard but she had never expected this unusual turn of event.

For the wizard's mind was totally silent.

"You cannot hear my thoughts, my lady," the istar said, suddenly diverting from Lord Celeborn's queries in favour of turning towards the Golden Lady, "because I am not projecting any."

Unlike the other elves present, Lady Galadriel did not look shock at all, just tilted her head in curiousity. Never before had she met a creature in Middle Earth that did not fear her ability, yet this petite being could not only block her powers but…

"-read your mind," he finished. The child-like being opened his eyes then, shocking the elves with their intensity. So green, it was like looking into the deepest of emeralds.

"Only because you project them so loudly, my lady," the black-clad istar said, soothingly. "Peace, my queen. I did not come here to bring discord."

Haldir and Lord Celeborn watched in amazement as a glow of delight and awe illuminated their Lady's fair countenance.

"It is you," she whispered in joy.

Hariel the Black smiled back and his beauty was lit aglow.

"It has been a long time, Lady Galadriel."

* * *

"Harry!"

The black-clad Maia smiled gently at the Hobbits as they clustered around him happily.

Haldir tilted his head as he watched the event unfold.

He was still wary of the petite istar but he, himself, could not help but bask in his presence. Just like his brethen, all whom were coming out to glimpse at the young wizard.

"He is beautiful, is he not."

The marchwarden turned to the other blond elf that was also watching the preceding.

"He is. Unusually so," Haldir replied. After a brief pause, he finally voiced the cause of his uneasiness. "He is also... dangerous."

The younger elf looked at him in slight confusion.

"He reeks of death and darkness," the marchwarden clarified, to the prince's horror and confusion.

"But I do not sense any-," the Prince of Mirkwood was interrupted.

"Not of evil intentions," Haldir said, "if anything, the istar feels..."

"Pure," Legolas finished for him, "that's why the hobbits are so comfortable around him. Even Frodo who carries the ring."

"Yes, it is... as if he is the embodiment of mortality."

The elvenprince arched an eyebrow, then turned back to the party in front of him.

"The embodiment of mortality..."

* * *

The four littlest members of the fellowship were preparing to call it a night when they first heard it.

What they did not know was that the whole of Lothlorien had turned completely silent minutes before, their songs of mourning halting at the appearance of the Black Wizard. The black-clad istari stood in the middle of a parapet, a stark contrast against the glowing background.

The first note caught the attention of those who weren't already looking at him. A slow lingering note that stretched out before blending into a second note that evolved into a melody that spoke of grief and loss.

Only the elves, whose enhanced senses barely missed any detail, could see the slight tremble that rippled through the hands that held the instrument and the single tear that landed on the violin's polished surface.

The little hobbits, kindly creatures that they were, shed tears of sorrow throughout the soft requiem for Gandalf the Grey.

For it was that exact moment that the Master of Death retrieved the Grey Pilgrim for his final journey to the Blessed Realms.

* * *

"I am joining the fellowship," the green-eyed wizard said early one morning as they gathered around for their breakfast. His tone was almost nonchalant, as if he was talking about the weather.

The members of the said fellowship stared at him in startlement.

"As a replacement for Gandalf?" Pippin asked, quite tactlessly. A few of the members shot him annoyed looks but Hariel quite generously ignored the implications of his words.

"No, as extended help," the petite istar replied easily with an almost impish smile.

**End of First Appearance**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

1. I'm ashamed to admit that I've been neglecting my little love child (aka this fic). I'm afraid I've been having a little affair with another HP x-over that I fell in love with after watching BLEACH (anime) on the zanpaktou rebellion. Anyway, I hope that I'll be able to get back in the mood for writing this after I get it out of my system.

2. I have read somewhere before that says that Sleep is the cousin of Death, so I associate Harry with the ability to communicate with others in their dreams, kinda like how the deceased sometimes communicate with their loved ones etc. It is how Harry connected with Elrond.

3. In case, my beloved readers are curious as to how Harry and Galadriel met each other. Please read my other fic called 'First Meetings'. It tells of how Galadriel, still in Valinor at that time, met Death for the first time.

4. If movie-goers remember, Gandalf didn't immediately die after falling from the bridge. He fought the Balrog for days before succumbing to Death. Then, only later was he sent back to Arda.


End file.
